Like We Always Do
by Caness
Summary: A bit of juxtapostition between PeterClaude and SylarMohinder snuff. A little angsty and a little disturbing. OneShot.


Somehow Claude always found himself right back here, at Peter's door. He thought himself weak for it, but he knew Peter didn't and so... he kept coming back. He couldn't explain it; he felt entranced by the empath.

Peter felt a strange surge and then... nothing. Claude. He put down the mug he had been wiping clean and walked over to the door. Before the older man could walk away he threw it open, nearly smashing him in the face. The wind created by the door blew Peter's already unruly locks about his face. They stayed there like that for a long time, staring.

Claude clapped his hands together and grinned, letting himself inside. "Nuff of that now!" He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Peter sighed, putting on a little smile. He closed the door and swept the hair behind his ears.

"Beer?" Claude nodded, just like always.

**_beat_Tension**

There was a knock at the door. Mohinder rubbed his bleary eyes. He had been drifting off again. Perhaps Zane was right; perhaps he did work too hard. He sighed, running a hand through his curls and getting up to see what Zane needed.

Sylar's amirk was predatory and wild, not at all like Zane. No more pretending. This was the night Dr. Suresh would follow his father into oblivion. Mohinder frowned thoughtfully, furrowing those dark brows.

"Did you need something, Zane?" he said, leaning against the doorframe and yawning delicately.

"I did actually," Sylar said a little **too **brightly.

**_beat_Desperation**

They were sitting on the couch, just like always, drinking beer and watching _Doctor Who _reruns. A small intake of breath from Peter broke the silence.

"Why did you come back?" He sounded so small it made Claude _hurt. _He stared at his shoe. He thought he said _Enough, enough with the awkwardness. _"You're right," Peter sighed mornfully. "What do we have to be awkward about anyway?" Here it comes.. that small nervous chuckle. Claude winces and suddenly his hands are everywhere, lying Peter back gently and taking the beer out of his hands. He's finishing it off and then settling on the slighter boy's hips. Peter's cheeks are flushed and he looks distant. It doesn't make Claude want to kiss those thin lips any less.

Peter steals the thought and leans up on one elbow to take Claude's lips. The kiss is mad and impassioned and it leaves both of them breathless, but it's still just a kiss because that's all Claude wants it to be. And that's all Peter wants it to be, or so he's convinced himself.

**_beat_Fulfillment**

Mohinder's being forced up against a wall, and he's confused and feeling a little betrayed. For what he's not sure.

"Zane..." He pushes back on the smaller man's chest a bit, but this only finds him in an even more compromising situation. Sylar lunges forward, crushing Mohinder painfully against the wall. Mohinder feels a shock of fear race through his body, but soon quells it. That's all Zane... That's all this man wants. His fear.

Mohinder grasps Sylar's biceps gingerly, nonthreateningly. He takes in a small shuddering breath and kisses Sylar. Sylar's eyes pop wide-open, and for a moment he considers shoving the man back and finishing him, but there's something forbidden about this. The spicy curry of Mohinder's mouth, those strong arms gripping his _so_ gently. It's enough to make him short-circuit, even kiss back... just for the moment.

**_beat_Completion**

Peter is moving under Claude, just like always, but there's a new air of desperation to the act. As if this might be the last time. _And maybe it will be_, Claude thinks as he's thrusting into the boy below him, taking him in slow, deep motions. He should feel guilty, but there is not time or space for guilt now. Claude only feels _good. _Only when he looks down, Peter has unshed tears in his eyes

"Don't let this be the last," Peter whispers. And that makes him angry, quickens his pace. He must be hurting Peter but the boy doesn't seem to mind for all the pleased noises he's making. He grabs Peter's head and draws them closer together, leaving small wet kisses up Peter's jawline and on his lips. Instead of expressing his earlier rage he simply says:

"I won't" and they come together, harder than they ever have before.

**_beat_Finalization**

Sylar doesn't break the kiss, doesn't think he could if he tried. He deepens the kiss to bruising, taking without remorse, like he always does. Mohinder whimpers and closes his eyes, willing to give up all control. He's shaking and it makes Sylar feel _wonderful. _Better than any of the kills. _This _is complete control. It must be.

And now he's choking the geneticist. And there's that tasty fear again. He's fucking Mohinder's mouth with his tongue; that's all it really could be called. He presses close so that the loudest noise is Mohinder's failing lungs. The Indian is still kissing him back and that's _exciting. _He constricts his fist, crushing Mohinder's trachea and drawing one last swipe across his lips with his tongue. He drops the scientist, and looks at the fallen man sullenly, almost mournfully. He frowns. If only he'd known, what fun they could have had.


End file.
